Poetry

6595 posts

untitled by Drew

a vein throbs in my neck
letting me know i still exist
her room
the stars and the moon
a blind memory of her face

“Civilization” by Chuck Michael Ostan

We've traversed the centuries from ancient caves
and with earth's secrets built a new age
Traded human servants for mechanical ones
With Iron we ruled, with wheel we ran
the gamut of progress in the new evolution...

A lawnmower booms the mornings rest
Jet streaks bruise the skies overhead
Dream cars zoom along the ground
A TV blares, tires squeal
in suburban heaven

Stress, the 21st Century ill
Information overload, mental thrill?
Man separated from natures peace
For fortune or fame, the relentless quest -
What has been gained in the race for success...

Mother nature in distress
Her treasures ravaged without conscience
In rebellion she levels her terrible wrath
Hurricanes twist, earthquakes crack -
The balance upset, the lady attacks

Emotionless circuitry rules the last phase
From an armchair we travel the computer age
The servants we've made have the masters become
A number for money, a number for man
A number for everything under the sun

Planetary conquest, race for the stars
Lunar outpost, an outpost on mars
For future exodus from our battered globe
Extinction for man or final attempt
To trample and invade again in the name of...
Civilization!

“Changes in the Wax Museum” by Bryan Shultz

dracula is so
pass?. frankenstein's not
scary. we have
replaced some of the
older villains
with more contemporary
bogeymen like the
absent-minded
dentist, an islamic terrorist,
crackhead rapist
jerome, a communist
leader, and
three nazis.

“The Devil’s Photograph” by One Hand Clapping

Look at my picture
What is it?
That's right, it's nothing
Hearts and souls were burned for this
I love it how someone like you
Can step on my eyes when they're on fire
But I'd rather let them burn
And smother in the ashes

      You are so confused
      Because someone actually cares
      Your tasteless words
      Are salt on my wounds

Tonight is the eve
Of tomorrow
And after dreaming a new beginning
I will erase you from my picture
But tomorrow you will reload your gun
And shoot me once again
My sorrow is the fuel for your happiness
And my dedication for you to piss on

“Snakes and Snails and Puppydog’s Tails” by Deanna Williams

this must tell you something--
the way we run and hide
the way we cover our throats
at the sight of your jaws

it must be terribly frightening
to wake up next to you

we must feel completely powerless
...of course you always knew

that we are weak
slow
and always get caught in the traps

“Do Unto Others” by clb

I lie on my stomach and you
run your fingers down my bare back.
Double-edged razors leaving trails of blood.

You lie to me with smiles and far off gazes
every movement echoing through hollow sincerity.
The scab torn from the wound exposing raw flesh.

We lie facing our own cold, skyscraper walls
our thoughts different yet very much the same.
Acid rain coursing down each cheek.

I lie to you with false hope and comfort
rubbing the tension from your shoulders.
Massaging poisoned oil into you soul.

You lie with her and I with him
each waiting impatiently for stolen moments.
Digging graves with our lies to lie in.

“E.T. Dogs” by Johnnyspot

I left town this morning
It was peaceful, dead quiet
The streets were clean and empty
It had rained violently last night
It was a glorious place
I took a car that wasn't mine
Even though I never learned to drive
It belonged to someone who was caught under the weather
But he died in the silver rain
It rained scalpels yesterday
They dripped into the homes
As soon as the touched their skin they died of shock
The radiation gave them charred skin, cataracts and tumors
The seizures broke them wide open
They all died, with silver mercury in their boiling skin
Everyone is gone
Except me
Because I know their hobby
And I'm better than they are
They like me, they follow me

untitled by Ghost

I found a hole where my heart should've been
I can feel my mind wearing thin
drugs fading and my eyes open
inject again and still I'm hoping
body aches, mind flying
I feel so good but I might be dying
inside me and a part of me
but I know I have forgotten me
aftertaste of decay
and it wasn't meant to be this way
is it too late too change my mind?
if I look inside what will I find?
a blood-red toy you've called my heart?
if I touch it will it fall apart?
held together with flaking glue?
or will it be an icy blue?
cold to touch but burning still
shrunken down to a paste-white pill
amphetamine runs thru the veins
wash away the bloody stains
a past which sewed itself to me
sewn tight with wire, I cannot flee
it drags behind me and trips my feet
crawls in front to replay, repeat
an infinite loop of suicide letters
but I'm tied to this life with bondage and fetters
unread message and no reply
all I can hear is myself asking "why?"

untitled by Lauren DePhillips

A single uttered word from my mouth
      Sets off the howls and moans
      In ironic testimony
As I continue on my route
A single spoken syllable of sound
      Shatters the haughty silence
      Of contemptuous glares
Unleashing two she-hounds

A geyser of laughter that won't subside
      Dislodged from my gut
      By a frenzied flash of indifference
Follows me in my casual stride

untitled by Missy

He walks in light
as if in a dream.
He hides his fears
to show only a smile.

His light appears through
the pitch blackness.
His light brightens up
the underworld of hell.

He is my light
through the night.
He guides me with his love
and brightens every day
with his special kindness.

“One Look / You” by Scared Crazy

in the grips
of your soulful stare
I become startlingly aware
of all the things
I didn't know before
but you can't hide them
anymore

-----------------------

and so many times
you've seen me cry
I needed to live
but I wanted to die

all that I wanted
was for someone to understand
and you appeared
to hold my hand

and when everything I thought true
became only dust
I searched all around me
for someone to trust

there, I found you

“Feel” by One Hand Clapping

Without your sunshine
My flowers will never bloom
If you could just sit here for one moment
I'll follow you to your tomb
My kid gloves will never be worn again
Because there's no sense to that
I can't handle that kind of self-pity
Just like a silly old rat

Every time I re-light the lantern
      I can feel your eyes
      And I can feel your mind
      And I can feel a new sense of pride

I still feel myself drifting
From a long lost friend
Even though nothing is broken
I still feel the need to mend

I can sit for hours just thinking
Of how it used to be
We can start it up
And never let it cease

You are a granted wish
From above down to me
There is no compromise
I wouldn't take to my life

“Clouded Window” by Graham

Have you ever stared at silence
Do you know what nothing sounds like
Rushed to know the truth
and tarnished all suspense

If eyes were always pure
and never drowned in rage
could lips be left closed
so hands could read the page

Does a window cast a shadow
that no one ever sees
If all this light would disappear
Our thoughts might be so clear

Foolish lives have much to lose
and what they know is much untrue
For ignorance makes them pick and choose
the hands that feed them through and through

“The Screams” by Shaman

Part I- The Short Insane Speech

"Races, Spinning forest
girls lost in nostalgia

Looms fading to trumpets
loud brass echoes off our
foreign walls"

(And As The Children Go)
"Let Loose Our Screams!"

"Ethereal conduits, read me your
story... mmm soft lies

Wet Toilets - Spinning
Spinning, Spinning, Spinning:
luster, dribble, spoons and spittle"

(And As The Children Go)
"Let Loose Our Screams!"

"The rain, the rain,
the endless rain!
Shapes in the dark streams for
the twilight bound lycanthropes

Where humans lost sparrows
bound to silver farrows

Oh and did you know
Rivers and endless streams flow endlessly
for as my father said - the deep oceans
cash the strong checks
they are pursed and cashed
for those, mmm... these under desks."


Part II The Story Behind The Deluded Man

"Under my office desk I rest
only place I don't detest -

Well okay - let me see
You want what you have always wanted
from me - my story

By the little lake I was made
Left to roam through the forests, the shade
It was always sunny there
Great place to play

Well my father and mother
always in love with the other
always away with their tea
always smiled with their glee

That was what I remember of
the happy days in September
In the log cabin in the mountains
with the trees long and limber

Before my dark shadow
the time of my mental window

The dark figure entered
Rain - Hard - lightning splintered

The mud ran across my
birthing halls - for tonight
I was to be reborn

He came with his sickle - for me
meaning lost and fickle
I wanted to run to his side
I wanted to feel his strange stride
I wanted to enter his lonesome ride

He crawled like a snake
Through the leaves I had raked
He came right past me
With his smile real but fake

He struck me with his sickle, and
He struck me with his spittle

I was left to die - but to watch
and wonder why life was real
and did not lie

He went across the hall
Through the farrows in the fall
...to my parents room

By now the ground was mud
full of streams and slush
and I was to await the
- procession of doom

With a swallow of pain
I witnessed what I must

The figure lunged with a
swish and a swack
ungrateful - mental stuck
he had struck my phasing mother
left me in the downpour
purpose never to explain

My father ran out into the rain
Through his eyes I could feel his pain

And with a swipe he was two motions

I was surely dead - for I had
counted the blood that I bleed

It was clearly spherical
my presence of death - it
was mimicked by my
blue lacking breath

But I lived
I wanted the pain
The Discord
The Disdain
I wanted people to see
past my feign
the last insane

I grew old - mind and souls
Time just lapsed and did fold
Sitting, alive, cursing the sweet dead
was I dead? I was not sure

The animals found the sun
- Lovely - how could they?
The animals found their cars
- Death wheels - To me,

Screeching squeals - a
doorway into numbness
a similar predumbness

How could I turn so cruel?

Well I wasn't alone
The streets I made my home
On the building tops I made
my phone

I spoke to him
I jumped to him - on the edge
I fell through the sky, and
I hoped to die

But I was cursed
To me life was burst
A broken pipe
Left to hurt

I could not lie
I could not die

I was left to go insane
I could recall the hard rain

Forever I would be insane.


And that is my story.
It hasn't courage nor glory,
but somehow I left a message.
I must be blinded by the pain.
Only you, my friend, still have
...your hope to guide you.
- my dear insane

“Monday Afternoon” by Agatha Shannon

what is it you want?
she looks straight into me
no attempt at stifling a yawn
and so I spend the hour trying to get into her head
while she grills me
I sense what must be her impatience
and think of leaving
I'll apologize for being such a waste of her time
I don't have the talent or intellect or confidence
she must be used to dealing with
knowing I would have to shake her hand keeps me seated for now
my palms are sweating and what would she think of that?

again she asks
what is it you want?
I respond polished and polite
legs crossed hands folded
no fidgeting or fiddling with my pearls or twirling my hair
I make eye contact
and I'm so sincere
and I'm a liar
and she looks out the window
and the silence is suffocating

the two flowers on the wall are the same
exactly
but for their backgrounds
which are entirely different
altogether
I wonder if it's their sameness or their difference that retains by interest for the moment?
are appearances misrepresentations of content -
or is it the other way around?
then I notice her necklace which is something like
the one the neighbor with the birdbath used to wear
I remember how much she liked owls
and how much he hated the fact that that birdbath was in her yard
after all it was his grandfather's
I wonder if he ever remembers

she looks back at me from whatever it was in the parking lot
holding her attention
and rubs her eyes
she reminds me of that nun from Holy Trinity
maybe she is a nun or an angel or something and she knows what I'm thinking
or that I'm really not thinking at all
about her question
because if I do I might give a wrong answer
or worse
I might give the right one
what if somehow my answer is universally significant and spiritually profound
and then I change my mind
what if I put every ounce of faith into a ridiculous radical cause only to realize it is just that?
what if I have to leave behind all I've come to identify with as successful in order to fulfill my purpose?
what if my use of power is perceived as irresponsible by those from whom I crave attention?
she says if I can hear myself say it
it will become clear
why this fruitless attempt at conformity
this stubborn insistence on forcing a square peg into a round hole -
or is it the other way around?
she must think I'm incredibly naive
that would be expected
everyone tells me I'm incredibly naive

she leaves the room to take some phone call
I should really get back to the office
but I'm still here because of my palms
this must be some sort of experiment
like one of those psych labs in school where the cameras are watching
and you think you're being critiqued on some latent aptitude or your test taking ability
but really they just want to observe you
sitting there
so I look around and read the brochure on the table
I check out her coasters
and act real comfortable just to throw them off
the people on the other side
maybe the guy from the front desk who walks like Robert is one of them
or the angry woman from the bathroom
they could be the watchers
or the two guys in the hall
who immediately stopped engaging
in what appeared to be wrestling holds
when I walked by
maybe they're in on it too
all of them just props

she's back now and I tell her
I answer her question
sort of
because my words don't ever match my thoughts
exactly
everyone tells me I've such problems communicating
but she smiles
no she smirks and nods her head
I stand and hold out my hand and run back
home safe
filled with overwhelming relief after having voiced by confession
I'm bursting to tell you about my progress and you listen
as best you can I believe
and you pat my head
partly because I'm now a bit disheveled which you find endearing
and partly because this is an acceptable form of touching for people in our position
you whisper because no one else should hear where I've been
that's not what you want

and there you go
you are logical and practical
you avoid complicated scenarios
you want to be sure I understand
that's your job
to teach me
to explain in simple terms the reasons why
the common sense of it all
the way things work in this world
the timetables
the expectations
the money
and here we are
and I hear her ask
what is it you want?